Concrete Jungle
by monsterXmash
Summary: Janet van Dyne is a thief in it for the thrills and Spider-Man just can't find it in himself to stop her. Set in the 2012 Amazing Spider-Man-verse. ::: Peter Parker/Janet van Dyne


**Concrete Jungle**

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_Author's Note: So this is my Spider-Man fic, set in the 2012 Amazing Spider-Man-verse :) I have taken some liberties with the character Janet van Dyne, but hopefully you all won't mind. I just love her so, I wanted to write something with her in it. Please review and tell me what you think and if I should continue!_

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The city is a living thing.

She can feel its pulse in her own chest - a deep, staccato rhythm that resonates from an apartment below. She can feel its breath, thick and hazy, in her own lungs, and chilled against her face as she propels herself onward. The building beneath her feet is hard and unyielding, the concrete roof smooth as flesh as she takes one... two... three... four running strides across the surface to jump down onto the next. The landing is too uneasy for her liking, so she rolls forward after failing to find proper footing, and springs back up without barely missing a step.

A month in New York and Janet has already made the city her own. Brick and steel and glass acquiesce to her will - allowing her to vault from rooftops, scale the sides of buildings, swing from railings - anything for the now familiar caress of her fingertips. She's out there every night, a dutiful lover, discovering new and exciting places where she can jump, leap, catch, somersault, and give this place a reason to _live._

She toes the parapet and jumps off, reaching out a hand to grab the top wrung of a ladder and grasps... air. The girl panics as she falls, clawing at the wrought-iron surrounded fire escapes the pass her and clutches only _air_. She closes her eyes and prepares herself for a fatal collision and _oh!_ there it is.

But, she's not broken. And she's not dead, she doesn't _think._ Is she still falling? The air continues to whip past her face, the city's cruel sigh, but when she manages to finally open her eyes again - she's _flying. _Janet clings tighter to her savior as they soar across the sky, the lights around them a blur of electric color speeding by so fast that she begins to feel dizzy. But just as quick, her feet are on solid ground again.

The girl staggers for a moment before she steadies herself with her hands on her knees. She stares down at the red feet in front of her as she catches her breath and as soon as she feels that she can stand upright, she does.

"You're not supposed to _save_ me," she says to the masked protector. "I'm a criminal."

Red shoulders go up in a high shrug, his every motion an exaggeration, and he turns on his heel with grand pageantry before walking away from the girl. "I'll remember that," Spider-Man replies, " next time you decide to _throw _yourself off of a building."

"I didn't throw myself off -!" Janet yells back, but stops and growls in annoyance when she realizes the boy has no intention of stopping. "_Hey!_ I didn't throw myself off of a building!" she repeats, louder so that the hero stops and pivots back towards her. He cocks his head to the side, silently asking for further explanation.

"I threw myself _towards_ a fire escape, okay."

She supposes that he's pleased with her answer, because he's advancing on her again, too slow and arrogant for her liking. Why didn't he just let her _die_? He's right in front of Janet again, blocking the light from behind him and casting her in his shadow. "So what happened?" he asked.

"It wasn't there," she says and puts her hands on her hips, looking away.

Spider-Man leans towards the side where she's looking. "The fire escape wasn't there?"

Janet glares at her companion, annoyed. "The _ladder_ wasn't there!"

"Then why'd you jump?"

"Spidey-"

"I know!" he raises his hands in surrender. "I know." She can hear him sigh from behind his mask as he clasps her shoulders in his palms. She immediately relaxes under his touch and he brings her closer, then slowly slides his fingertips down the girl's arms to hold onto her wrists. "You can't keep doing this," he tells her and if it were anyone else she would have rolled her eyes because,_ hello_, she's Janet van Dyne and_ nobody _tells Janet van Dyne what to do. But his voice is soft and sincere, and instead, she leans into him so that she has to tilt her head up to stare into his reflective eyes. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

She looks away from the boy and worries her bottom lip between her teeth, suddenly embarrassed. Who was she to sneak out of her home to wander the city streets? Who was she to wear the night like a cloak just so she could steal a taste a freedom? Who was she to have _Spider-Man _worried?

He releases one of her wrists and places a gentle handle under her chin so she has to turn back to him. "Not to mention," he says, and she can hear the smirk in his voice, "if you keep this up, one of these nights I'm gonna have to take you in."

She smiles too. "But not tonight?"

"No... not tonight."

She presses against him and she's Janet again, confident, assured, and places her palms against the boy's chest. "Other big baddies to bring to vigilante justice?" she asks.

His hands are on her hips, keeping her in place. He doesn't know if he's stopping her from moving back or moving _forward_, but he does know that he has to regain some sense of control and fast. "I think you're the worst of my problems right now."

"I leave money," she says innocently as if he was talking about the _twenty_ or so felonies she has committed over the last month. She looks up at him beneath fluttering lashes. He almost groans. "That counts for something, right?"

"Yeah, but there's still that little question of breaking and entering," he counters and wonders how he keeps his voice so smooth. "And for a -?"

The girl reaches behind herself and pulls out a glittering pink dog collar from her pocket. He doesn't even know how she could _fit _anything in her pocket, her outfit is so tight, but there it is, and she holds the canine accessory proudly. "I wanted it," she explains simply.

His grip tightens a bit on her hips. He wishes she wouldn't pout like that - lips all soft and eyes heavy lidded - because she knows, _he knows_, that the look has worked on every man every day of her spoiled existence. "And you always get what you want."

She tilts her head. "Not always." The collar is back in her pocket.

"Oh?"

Her hands are on his jaw now, dangerously close to the hem of his mask, but he knows she wouldn't attempt it. "I _want_ to see you," she whispers. But they've been through this time and time again.

Spider-Man shakes his head no and she _pouts_. "Janet -"

She leans in further to him. She wants to kiss him. _Really_ kiss him. "Why won't you let me?" she asks, her lips grazing his but brushing only fabric. "Have I seen you before? Do I know who you are?" She smiles at the thought.

He leans his forehead against hers and wraps his arms around her back. A month has passed since the day Janet van Dyne transferred to Midtown High School from some place in New Jersey. A _month_ and already she has more friends than he has ever had. A month and she has walked past him like he was part of the building, seen through him like he was a piece of glass. A month and everyday he has sat beside her in class without her knowing that he even existed.

"No," he sighs, "you don't."


End file.
